


Possession

by MaxWrite



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol (2011)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan is happy that Benji and Brandt have developed such a strong bond. Of course he is. Definitely. Why wouldn't he be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://ghotocol-kink.livejournal.com/1494.html?thread=64214#t64214): _"Ethan is jealous of Benji and Brandt's friendship. Shows Benji who he belongs to (hickies, etc)."_

At first, Ethan was pleased that Brandt seemed to hit it off so well with Benji. Not that Brandt would admit he had an affinity for the guy, but Ethan wasn't stupid, he could see it. Theirs was an easy relationship of friendly jabs and witty banter, of hushed conversations during downtime when Brandt opened up to Benji in a way that he'd never open up to Ethan, at least not unless Brandt deemed it necessary for his own sanity, or Ethan happened to put a gun to his head.

Frankly, Ethan wouldn't have wanted Brandt to be more open with him. But that wasn't the point.

Brandt and Benji had become quite a pair, seemed to connect with each other on a level that Ethan couldn't quite figure out. Jane had taken to calling them "brain twins". They'd finish each other's sentences, usually to shoot down Ethan's ideas tag-team style. They instinctively knew when the other was in trouble. Benji especially seemed to develop a sixth sense when it came to Brandt. Brandt lovingly referred to Benji as his knight, which always made Benji blush.

Which was perfect. That was how the members of a field team should operate. As one. As a unit. Like "brain twins". Or "brain quadruplets". Whatever. The point was, with Benji and Brandt's connection adding to the team dynamic, they were now a well-oiled machine. Teams like that get the job done. Teams like that stay _alive_.

So, why was Ethan so irked by their bond?

Benji's hero-worship crush on Ethan hadn't reared its head in weeks. Used to be, Ethan could walk into a room and make Benji fidget, make him blush with a glance. Ethan played it off like Benji's adoration annoyed him, but secretly it kind of tickled him. He was only human, after all. He liked attention as much as the next guy.

Well, actually, Benji's attention _did_ annoy him, he couldn't deny that. Benji's eager puppy schtick was dangerous, hazardous in a job like this. You can't waltz into the Kremlin acting like you're on a date. Yeah, sure, it's exciting, but shut up about it.

Still, it was flattering, being looked up to that way. But that was over now. It seemed Ethan was just another agent to Benji, now that he'd found Brandt.

Well, no matter. Benji chilling out a bit could only enhance the team's performance, so Ethan let it go, or tried to. He'd wander by Benji and Brandt, seated at a table trading jabs back and forth and making eyes at each other, and he'd ignore it. But then one day he caught a little snippet of something that made him stop and listen.

"Well, maybe you can pose as my date," Brandt suggested, throwing out ideas for their latest mission.

Benji chuckled, then stopped when Brandt didn't follow suit. "You're joking, right?"

"Why would I be?" Brandt asked, sitting forward and leaning his elbows against the table. "It's the twenty-first century. What're they gonna do, kick us out for being gay?"

Benji gave him a lopsided smile. "Why not Jane? She's the pro when it comes to this sort of thing."

"I think Jane's had enough of being the arm candy, the seductress. Give her a rest, she's tired of it."

Benji snorted. "I'm supposed to be the seductress, then?"

Brandt grinned. "Blond-haired, blue-eyed thing like you? I'm sure you could pull it off."

Ethan stood at the hotel bedroom doorway, staring at the pair. Was that flirting? Like, _real_ flirting?

Nope, nuh-uh, none of his business. If they wanted to mess around, it wasn't Ethan's concern. He ducked into the bedroom, intent on forgetting what he'd heard, but he found himself back at the doorway seconds later. They were smiling at each other and their conversation had become even more hushed; Ethan couldn't hear a word they were saying now. And damn if they didn't look like they were on a date.

Ethan's mind raced through IMF regs, looking for anything stating that romantic couplings between coworkers was a no-no. He came up empty. It was all well and good, so long as the parties involved disclosed their relationship. Ethan thought about reminding them of the rule, then decided against it. He didn't care. Why should he? Good for them if they were seeing each other, or preparing to. They made a nice couple. Or whatever.

But somehow, Ethan just couldn't let it go.

Later that day, Brandt and Jane were out casing their latest mission location and Ethan was left alone with Benji at the hotel. Benji busied himself with his various laptops and gadgets. He sat in an armchair, one computer on his lap, one on the coffee table, another on the floor next to the chair. There was a big, black duffel bag on the floor at his feet as well, some of its contents spilling out; USB cables, thumb drives, and things that Ethan couldn't even identify. Benji held a thumb drive in his mouth as he typed.

Today, it wasn't the mess surrounding Benji that was irking Ethan. That, he could ignore simply by locking himself in the bedroom, but unfortunately Ethan's issue went deeper than that. This was no out-of-sight-out-of-mind type of problem. And seeing as they had some time to kill before the others returned…

Ethan stepped toward Benji. "You got a minute?" he asked.

"Hm?" Benji hummed around the thumb drive. He plucked it from between his lips and glanced up at Ethan, but only briefly. "I'm triple checking our escape route, making sure no nasty firewalls are gonna pop up while I'm fetching you lot tonight."

"Good, good," Ethan said with a nod. He began to circle Benji's chair. "You can take a break, though, can't you? I've got something I wanna talk to you about?"

"What'd I do now?"

"Nothing. It's about Brandt."

Benji finally stopped working, really stopped and began following Ethan with his eyes. "What about him?"

"You like him, right?" Ethan asked, his voice low, his words quick. "You two get along well."

"Yeah, course. What, has he said something?"

"No, just my own observations."

"What've you observed?"

"Exactly what I said. You two get along well."

"So, what's the problem?"

Ethan clenched his jaw as he began his second trip around Benji's chair. _What's the problem?_ Benji's voice echoed in his mind. The question annoyed him. Was Ethan imagining it or had there been a slight edge to Benji's voice just then? As though his time was too precious to be bothered with this conversation. Or as if he didn't appreciate Ethan asking questions about Brandt.

What annoyed Ethan even more was the fact that it annoyed him at all. He shouldn't care this much. It was just Benji. He was just a coworker, a teammate, it wasn't as if they were…

Ethan stopped pacing somewhere around Benji's left side and stared straight ahead at nothing. "Oh, my god," he muttered. Something had dawned on him.

"What?" Benji asked, now setting his computer aside, sitting it atop the duffel bag and then turning back to Ethan. "You know, if I may say so, you've been acting a bit weird lately. Hovering in doorways, listening in. Now, don't freak out. I don't think the others have noticed, but I have. And I say this not because you're making me paranoid, although you are, but because I'm worried about you, Ethan. You know? Nobody knows what goes on in that head of yours. You carry it all around in there, all by yourself, it's not healthy. Sometimes it's like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, and you worry me, you really do. Do you need to talk? Because I'm here. You can always come to Benji. Go on, chew my ear, or whatever that saying is. Just gnaw on it a bit, go on."

Ethan slowly looked down at Benji, who had turned his left ear to Ethan and was waiting patiently.

"You want me to talk?" Ethan asked softly.

"Yeah. We're mates, right? We should be able to talk to each other."

"You don't talk to _me_. You talk to Brandt."

"Oh, well, yeah," Benji said, looking guilty. "You're just so busy all the time. Or annoyed about one thing or another. Stressed. Harried. Hate to bother you with my petty problems."

Ethan nodded. "I see." He went back to Benji's front, leaned over and braced himself on the chair's armrests, his face inches from Benji's, making Benji lean back.

"Erm –" Benji began, but Ethan cut him off.

"You don't mind bothering Brandt, though."

"Well, no –"

"And he talks to you."

"Yeeeah, are you upset?"

"You fucking him, Benji?"

The question just came out. Ethan hadn't intended to ask it at all, but apparently he really wanted to know.

Benji's eyes widened and he let out a nervous laugh. "What? We're just friends, Ethan."

"You flirt. The two of you. Constantly. Do you have any idea how unprofessional it is, the two of you having your little foreplay sessions over the comm during missions?"

 _"Foreplay?"_

"Don't deny it. Don't tell me that's not what it is. I can practically hear you creaming your jeans every time he makes a crack about your ass."

Benji smiled for a moment, and Ethan knew he wanted to comment on the words "crack" and "ass" appearing in the same sentence, but he seemed to think better of it when Ethan glowered at him.

Benji held up his hands as though to ward Ethan off. "Ethan, you're losin' it. All right? You're crackin' up. There's nothing going on between me and…" He paused, frowned. "Hang on. Why do you even care if he and I are shagging? Which we're not, by the way."

And there it was, the question that had been plaguing Ethan all this time, the answer to which had only occurred to him moments ago. No, he wasn't in love with Benji. No, it was something else. Something more possessive.

Ethan straightened up and stepped back. "Get up," he ordered.

Benji hesitated, then stood, though he kept his distance, remaining right at the chair. Ethan remedied that by stepping forth, right into Benji's space, and nearly knocking him back down. Ethan grabbed the front of Benji's shirt to hold him upright. Benji gaped at him, actual fear showing his wide eyes. He was breathing a little harder now, maybe even quivering a bit. His face began to blush from his neck up to his cheeks and his pupils grew large with what Ethan initially thought was fear. But then he got a hunch that he was feeling bold (or crazy) enough to test.

He kicked Benji's left leg sideways, spreading his legs apart a few inches and scaring the hell out of Benji, who yelped and jerked in Ethan's grasp.

"Ethan!" he squeaked. "Is this about the leftover Thai food from a few nights ago? Because I apologized for that, remember? I swear William and I didn't know it was yours. We've got plenty of magic markers if you wanna put your name on things, you know –"

"Quiet," Ethan demanded. And then, without warning, he nudged his thigh right up between Benji's legs, shutting Benji up with a firm press against his crotch.

Benji's mouth snapped shut and he stilled. He stopped breathing. He didn't even blink.

Ethan, on the other hand, smirked, having confirmed his hunch. "You're hard."

Benji said nothing.

"This turning you on, Benji? When I quietly lose my shit like this, does it make you horny?"

Benji's face grew redder, but he still said nothing.

"I'll tell you why it matters, Benji, why it matters who you're fucking when that person might also be a member of this team, a _recent_ and therefore _lower ranking_ member of this team. It's because of the very thing that you just proved to me, Benji. All this time I've been watching you and Brandt bromancing each other's pants off, flirting with each other – and yes, that is what it is, whether it's romantic or not – having your little late-night talks, telling each other secrets. I've been watching and wondering why the hell it bugs me so damn much, but now I know. And so do you, Benji. You and your dick both know exactly why it pisses me off so much." Ethan pulled Benji closer, put his mouth to Benji's ear and whispered, "Because you… belong… to _me_."

Silence, except for the sound of Benji swallowing hard. Ethan thought he might actually be able to hear Benji's heart pounding.

Not even Ethan knew what he was going to do next until it was happening, and what he did was take Benji in his arms, their bodies flush with one another, and latch his mouth onto Benji's throat. He sucked so hard, Benji finally made a noise, gasping and panting as his hands went to Ethan's biceps to hold on. Or try to push Ethan away; he did seem to be struggling at first, but after a few seconds Ethan realized that what Benji was doing was rubbing his hard-on against Ethan's thigh. This was confirmed when Benji's voice came out in low, breathy moans. Ethan smiled against Benji's throat. _Mine,_ he thought.

Ethan's mouth pulled away with a smack, and there was an angry, red bruise on Benji's neck where he'd been sucking. Ethan released him and stepped back, surveyed his work. Benji stood there, panting and looking shocked, dazed, confused. He reached up to touch the spot where Ethan had marked him.

"They're gonna see that, you know," he said quietly.

"Good," Ethan replied. "Brandt _should_ see it, and I want it to be obvious where it came from. Take your pants off."

Benji stared at him in disbelief. "What for?"

"No questions. Just do it."

"Ethan –"

 _"Benji."_

Benji still hesitated. He glanced at the door as though expecting Jane and Brandt to walk in any second.

"Benji. Look at me."

Benji slowly met his eyes.

"Let's not pretend you don't want to do exactly as I say."

With a gulp, Benji seemed to concede the point and he obeyed Ethan's orders. He toed off his shoes, unbuckled his belt, unfastened his pants and down they went. He stepped out of them and kicked them aside, stood before Ethan in his shirt, tie and boxer briefs, his erection evident. Even just the shape of it beneath the heather-gray cotton looked painfully hard.

Ethan stepped close again, cupped a hand over Benji's crotch, petted his hard-on through the fabric. Benji closed his eyes and gulped again.

"Mine," Ethan whispered, his hot breath on Benji's cheek.

Benji nodded. "Yours."

"Take it out for me," Ethan instructed, removing his hand. "Show it to me."

Benji opened his eyes and he didn't hesitate to obey this time. He looked down at himself, brought his hands to his waistband, reached inside and pulled himself out.

Ethan looked down at it, the hard, uncut length of Benji's cock, red and fat and lightly veined. Ethan took it in his hand, felt a little jolt of arousal himself as the hot, firm weight of it rested in his palm. He gripped it, stroked it, then looked into Benji's uncharacteristically dark eyes.

"Whose is this?" Ethan asked him.

"Yours," Benji replied instantly. "It belongs to you."

"Good." Ethan brought the index finger of his free hand to his mouth, licked it, then moved it down and back to Benji's ass. He slipped it inside Benji's underwear, and Benji shifted just slightly, arching his back. Ethan slipped his finger between Benji's cheeks, found his hole, rimmed it with his fingertip. Benji moaned, his hole clenched and released.

"And this?" Ethan asked.

"Yours," Benji breathed.

"Very good. Look at me."

Benji turned his face to look at him.

"If he wants this," Ethan said, pressing his finger just a bit into Benji's ass, "or this," he went on, giving Benji's dick a squeeze, "he's going to have to ask my permission first."

"But it's not like that with us," Benji insisted. Ethan didn't believe him.

"You tell him, Benji, if he wants your ass, if he so much as wants to _see_ your cock, he comes to me first. You got that?"

Benji nodded. "Yes, Ethan."

"Good." Ethan disengaged and stepped back. He bent to pick up Benji's pants and handed them to him. "Go to the bathroom and take care of… your little problem down there."

Benji took his pants and glanced down at his still very hard dick. "Right," he said as he tucked himself away. He then bent to get his pants back on. When he was fully covered again, he looked at Ethan, hesitating as though he wanted to speak.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Spit it out."

"Er, right, erm… might this new arrangement of ours involve any… physical… displays of, erm…"

Ethan stepped up close again, put his face right before Benji's, their noses less than an inch apart. "You want me to fuck you, Benji?" he murmured.

Benji had to take a moment to breathe. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly through his nose, then finally replied, "Well, if I'm yours, you might as well… use me. Test the merchandise, you know. Right?"

Ethan smirked while Benji watched him hopefully. "I'll think about it," he said. Then he moved around to Benji's back, gave his ass a firm swat and stepped away. Benji was on his way to the bathroom when Ethan stopped him again.

"Magic marker," Ethan said, holding out a hand expectantly. Benji hopped to it, quickly locating a black magic marker amongst the mess of things around his armchair. Ethan took it, uncapped it, then, without warning, he ripped open Benji's shirt from the bottom to the top, leaving only a couple of buttons fastened at the collar and sending the rest flying across the room.

Benji jumped a bit, but otherwise stayed still. Ethan surveyed Benji's abdomen, decided on a spot, leaned over and wrote his own name across Benji's belly, just under the navel, right above his crotch.

"There," said Ethan, straightening up again and recapping the marker. He smiled at Benji and help up the marker. "You're right. I should start labeling my things." He then stepped forth and placed a gentle but lingering kiss on Benji's lips. "All right, go on," he said when he'd broken the kiss, "lose the tent before the others come back."

Benji eyed Ethan for a moment longer, then looked down and turned to walk away. But just before he turned, Ethan caught a glimpse of a little smile on his lips. It went nicely with the pretty blush on his cheeks. He looked like a teenager who'd just been unexpectedly kissed by the prettiest girl in school.

Ethan watched him go, watched him raise a hand to stroke the hickey on his neck as he headed to the bathroom.

END


End file.
